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The one who awakened me to a heaven I’d never known could exist, only to force me into the cages of my own nightmarish hell. The catalyst to my downfall.
“Good. Because I’m about to fuck you like you’re mine,” he whispers, his demonic tone causing my hair to stand on end. “But you’re not. You’ll never be.”
“Does Daddy know his little princess likes jewels up her ass when she gets fucked?”
Like a needle to the vein, the moment I entered her, I felt it happen; we were tangled in ways that only true torment and indescribable pain could sever.
But pleasure won’t cut it anymore. I need pain to erase Montana. I was a man obsessed. But now that obsession demands I destroy her.
Permanence is an idea that doesn’t exist when you’re used to a life of dishevelment.
When you really love people, you deal with their dirt and let it become you.
“What I’m suggesting is, it doesn’t take much for a seemingly normal man to snap. Men and monsters are merely separated by mismanaged trauma.”
The notes taunt and tease her closeness, those skilled fingers finding new ways to incite the demons within me.
The beauty and grace with which her body moves to the classic tune have me utterly enraptured.
I itch with needs. Dark, devious needs.
Ill by the thought of her. But it’s not enough. I need more.
She was my toy. Mine to play with. Mine to love.
We don’t talk about it, but you know that you’re mine, right?
“Death will find you faster than pleasure, pretty girl.”
But a pizza cutter to the clit for my cum? Fuck, that's sexy as hell.
“You gonna be a good boy for me?” I ask, rolling my hand up the soft, taut flesh. “The best boy.” He swallows. “I’ll be whatever you want as long as I’m yours.”
Thinking of his dirty mouth makes me smile.
When you really love someone, you appreciate their worth, flaws and all. You refuse to let go, no matter what tries to tear you apart. I refuse to let this go.
“You’re the dirtiest little moth I’ve ever seen.”
“Fucking me in my ass was your most profound experience?” I question. “What a sad life you live.”
Ugly moths were always my favorite, anyway.
“But you better get used to the hurt, sweetheart.”
“It’s the slow decay of hope that kills the living, not the beasts subjecting us to their bite.”
Cam girl and gamer girl? I’m a goner. Deceased. Dead. Rotting.
